The Girl From Eight
by LoriKate
Summary: "I know that I should be safe. My name is only in the bowl three times. But I also know that Victors' children are chosen far too often for it to be random." The story of the forty-sixth Hunger Games.
1. Prologue

Prologue

When my father won the 22nd Hunger Games, he was 17 years old.

His name had been in the bowl 30 times.

Victory did not come easy. It was three grueling weeks before the shattered, starving teen who would become my dad was lifted out of that arena. Another long week before he was healed of his physical wounds. I know the emotional ones are still there. I've watched that tape hundreds of times, and each time I see him fall in love wit the pretty, quiet girl from 3. And each time I see her die in my father's arms.

It was years before he was ready to marry my mother, his long-time sweetheart Anise. I was born eleven years after his victory, when he was 28. He has done everything in his power to make sure I never have to go to the Games.

Today, for the Reaping of the 46th Hunger Games, my name is only in three times. I know that I should be safe. But I also know that Victors' children are chosen far too often for it to be random.

**A/N: I know this was really short, the next one will be longer, I promise. As always, please R+R!**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

On the day of the Reaping, I am woken at dawn. My mother stands over me, long chestnut hair tickling my nose.

"Kianna," she whispers. "Wake up."

My only response is to groan.

"Come _on, _Kianna, It's the Reaping today, and we have to get ready. We have to make an _impression._"

"Why?" I grumble, sitting up. "It's not like the president's coming."

"No," she replies patiently. "The president will be watching on the television."

"No one's even going to see me," I protest.

"You know that's not true," she says sharply. "Your father is a very important man. One of District 8's three victors."

I sigh. "I know, I know."

"If you know, why do I have to remind you so often?"

_Because I would rather be a normal girl, even if it meant having to have a job and eating less and living in a tiny house. Because I don't like how obsessed you are with being 'presentable' and acting like we're better than anyone else. Because I don't like the way you look at Calico, simply because she's poor. Because I want to run around and climb that tree in our backyard instead of staying in and getting a lecture on being lady-like. Because when my father talks to me about his Games, he talks about the Games, not his fame. So I try to forget, as often as I can, that Father's Victorship means we're always in the spotlight. _That's what I think. But what I do is shrug. "I don't know."

"Well, anyway, it's time to shower."

I do. Then, in my robe, I eat a quick breakfast of toast and eggs and an apple before I'm herded to my room and made to sit down on my stool, facing my mother. By this time it is eight and the sun shines brightly through the window. I don't know why we had to start so early, as we don't have to be at the square until ten, and the Reaping doesn't start until eleven.

Finally, at nine, Mother finishes and allows me to look in the mirror for the first time. Reluctantly, I slide off the stool and head toward my closet. I swing the door open and finally see what Mother has done to me in the mirror on the inside of the door.

As much as I hate dressing up and looking pretty, I can't help but be impressed by what I see. My dress is made of gauzy lilac fabric that sparkles as it moves. It falls to my knees in ripples. Three skinny straps on each shoulder hold the dress up. My dark brown hair is shiny and silky, and clipped back from my face with small golden hearts. My eyelids are dusted with shimmery light purple powder that make my largish grey eyes glow, my cheeks pink, my lips a darker pink. I look like a District 1 girl, nothing like myself.

"Well?" my mother asks eagerly. I realize how much she wants me to love it, how much thought she put into this.

I force a smile. "I'm... so pretty." Inwardly, I wince. "I mean, wow."

A grin breaks my mother's face in two. "I knew you'd like it!"

"Yeah, Mom, I really do."

"I have something for you." She rummages in her pocket and pulls out a small box, which she holds out to me. Curious, I take and open it. Inside is a golden chain with a small golden outline heart hanging from it.

"Oh," I breathe. "It's - it's beautiful."

Smiling tenderly, she steps close to me and takes the necklace out of the box. "Do you want me to put it on?"

I nod. I can't imagine where she got something this delicate and pretty - or how much it must've cost, especially since it's new.

"Turn around." I do, holding up my hair as well. Her cool hands brush my neck as she fastens the chain around it.

"Alright," she says. Dropping my hair, I turn to face the mirror. The necklace looks natural, almost, like I've been wearing it my whole life. It looks as if it belongs.

"There," Mother says, causing me to turn. "You're ready. You look beautiful, sweetheart." With a shock, I realize her eyes are glistening.

"Mom. You're not going to cry on me, are you?"

She laughs. "No, no, of course not. It's just - you're growing up so fast."

I roll my eyes. Moms.

"Anise! Kianna!" My father, calling from downstairs. "Silene's pulling up!"

Silene is another Victor, along with my father and a man named Woof. She's been coming to our house for as long as I can remember, and as well as being my godmother, she's probably the nicest woman I know. She won the 24th Games by pretending to be just weak enough that she wouldn't be targeted, hiding for most of the Games, then killing her last remaining competitor in his sleep.

My mother and I walk down the stairs. In the entryway, my father is letting in a middle-aged woman with shoulder length brown-blonde hair and a blue eyes in a pleasant face - Silene.

"Hello, Anise. And, oh, Kianna, you look gorgeous."

"Thanks, Silene."

"Well, let's not all stand in the entryway chatting," my mother breaks in. "Would you like something to drink, Silene?

"No, but thank you, Anise."

We move to the sitting room and sit. Silene leans back comfortably and starts to talk about politics - something I am not interested in one bit. To be polite, I stay for a few minutes, then go into the kitchen. I get a glass from the cabinet and fill it with water, then sit and the table, sipping slowly.

With nothing else to do, my mind begins to wander to the Reaping that starts it - I check the clock - half and hour. I take deep, slow breaths, but they do nothing to quell my fear.

Calico has often said that I'm fearless. I can't count the number of times I've put on sturdy, plain clothes and snuck out of the house to climb a tree or visit Calico or wander around in the shopping area. I remember with perfect clarity the first time I threw a knife and swung a punch. It's irrational, really, that I should be so afraid, because my father has been training me since I was seven years old. But I am afraid. The Games are the only thing I fear.

Suddenly, a hand touches my shoulder and I start so badly I knock over my glass, sending water all over the table, though thankfully not onto my dress.

"Sorry," my father says, laughing. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Oops," I say, embarrassed.

He hands me a cloth and I start to wipe up the water. He waits until I spread the cloth outside, in the sun, and the glass in the sink before he speaks.

"Nervous?"

"Terrified," I respond as I sit back on my chair. Following my lead, Dad pulls out a chair and swings it around, straddling it so his chest is against the back of the chair.

"Hey," he says softly. "You'll be fine. Your name is only in there three times. Three slips out of thousands."

"Yeah..."

"And say you do get chosen. What then? I've taught you all the skills you'll need. You'll go in there and beat them all. Right?"

I manage a small smile. "Right."

"But do you know what? You won't get chosen. You won't."

Just then, my mother calls that the car is here, and my father and I head toward the door to go to the Reaping.

**A/N: So what do you think? I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated, I've been so busy... Anyway, please R+R!**


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